


A Titan Falls

by RefillTheGlass



Category: Super Mario & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Politics, mario au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-02 22:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10953591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RefillTheGlass/pseuds/RefillTheGlass
Summary: AU. Set in the government of the Mushroom Kingdom, a sudden event brings about a political firestorm in the country, fueling the rise of an evil movement and threatening the future of the nation.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is basically an amalgamation of my desire to write a political thriller and the fact that I rediscovered all my old Mario games recently. 
> 
> To establish, in this story, the Mushroom Kingdom's government resembles a Westminster-style parliamentary system. The monarch is a ceremonial figurehead, and day-to-day power is exercised by a cabinet led by a chancellor (for the purposes of this story, just a different name for what is better known IRL as a prime minister.)

**June 29, 2017, 9:02PM**

**Toad Town**

He stared at the paper in front of him. The print had never gotten smaller, but his eyes continued to worsen as he aged. The chancellor sighed, put his glasses back down on his desk, and looked out the window, across the glimmering city below.

He had a first name, but everyone called him by his surname — Toadsworth. When he entered the chancellorship eleven years ago, after his party surged to a landslide unseen in decades, he was already an old man. He held the seat: election after election after election. He had declared he would be done by the end of this term, approaching in three years’ time. But privately, he wondered if he would make it. _Eighty-three years old_. Jesus. Where had the time gone?

Toadsworth was worried about the opposition. He never minded the usual party opposite in parliament, they were respectable men who did good work. But they were no longer his main opponents. The new Leader of the Opposition — for heaven’s sake, he _looked_ like a cartoon villain. A giant, oversized Koopa, towering and pounding at the dispatch box, demanding radical reform. _Bowser_. What a name.

The cabinet was prepared for Toadsworth’s resignation (or worse). They knew the procedure, in case it came at any time. But the aftermath was still radically unsure. The public would pressure them to hold early elections, and they would have to give in. Opinion polls, nasty devils as they were, suggested that Bowser’s New National Party would surge to a plurality of seats in parliament, enough to form a solid minority government, at the very _least_. Toadsworth knew their extreme stances, their calls to overthrow the monarchy, their disdain for political freedoms and civil rights. He remembered when he first got into politics, some fifty years ago. His core ideology had remained the same — a gently conservative, gently liberal moderate. Maybe that’s why he had presided over such harmony. He didn’t ruffle feathers.

Toadsworth brushed his fears aside. He could still hold Bowser down a peg during question time, and maybe he could build up enough a front that the enthusiasm for the New National Party would be quashed. Ah yes, question time was tomorrow morning. Toadsworth figured he should head back to the residence and get some sleep.

He rose from his chair and headed toward the office door, but as he walked around his desk, a sudden pressure hit him in the head. It was abrupt, white-hot, and growing in strength. His first thought was that he had been struck or shot, but he swung his throbbing head around, and saw no broken windows. He ran his right hand down his head and felt no blood. This was coming from inside him, a natural consequence of his age and his stress.

Legs buckling out, he fell to his knees, reaching his hand out again, sliding it under the desktop, and feeling the round “panic” button that would summon the guards. He pressed it.

The pain, the pressure, the heat, it was overwhelming. He heard the rapidly approaching footsteps of the guards, but as the sensation exponentially grew, he knew he wouldn’t survive until their entrance into the room, much less a speeding ambulance ride to the hospital down the street. 

It all ended in a few seconds. His vision greyed out, he felt himself completely collapsing to the ground, and darkness overwhelmed him. He lost feeling in his feet, his legs, his midsection, his chest, his arms, his head.

He heard the noises of the louder sets of footsteps coming closer and closer, but soon that sound was gone as well.

The last muscle movement he could make was closing his eyes. He used his final ounce of strength to squeeze them shut. It was more dignified to go out that way, he always thought.

So he did. And nary a moment later, he was dead.


	2. Chapter 2

**June 29, 2017, 9:40PM**

The knock in the door was urgent and piercing. The Minister of Defense quickly walked over to open it. He had a sneaking feeling this was the moment.

Two guards stood before him.

“Mr. Collar, sir,” one said. “Come with us, we need to get you to HQ.”

“Now?”

“It’s an emergency, sir.”

He quickly explained to his wife that he would likely be gone for the remainder of the evening, and dashed out the door and into the waiting van. Climbing into the backseat, the armored vehicle quickly sprung into action, speeding down the suburban street and toward the city center.

When Tom Collar was first brought on as the defense minister, some seven years ago, he quickly gained the trust of the chancellor. After the last election, he was told that he would be the “backup” — the politician who would ensure the continuity of government should something happen to Toadsworth himself. Because the Mushroom Kingdom had no organized line of succession, it was all based on trust and tradition. The cabinet would meet within an hour, and they would confirm him to lead the nation in an interim capacity.

It was the fastest car ride of his life. The guards led him into the building, and into the cabinet room. The long, imposing conference table at the center, the arrogantly grandiose windows on the left-hand side… it was a familiar room in an overwhelming light now.

The guards ushered in another individual. Edwin Yoshi, the chancellor’s chief of staff, had a serious look on his face.

“Mr. Collar,” Yoshi said. “The rest of the cabinet is on their way.”

“Is this about…” Collar began, too afraid to say the words.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Yoshi replied. “The chancellor has died.”

A silence.

“How… did he go?” 

“Not sure. The emergency responders think it might have been a brain aneurysm, but more tests will be needed.”

“God rest his soul. Has his wife been informed?”

“Of course.”

“And the princess?”

“We’re sending messengers to the palace at this moment.”

“The news media?” 

“God, no!” Yoshi said, raising his voice indignantly. “They’re not catching a word of this news until tomorrow morning. We mustn’t upset the overnight stock futures.”

“They’ll hear rumors, though. Especially if they see the cabinet convening so quickly — ”

“They can make all the rumors they’d like,” Yoshi interrupted. “We’re not going to release a statement for several hours.”

Collar paused once more. “So I’m the acting chancellor of the Mushroom Kingdom now.”

“Well, technically not until the cabinet arrives. But for all intents and purposes, yes. For the time being, you’re in charge of the country.”

The words didn’t seem real to Collar. They didn’t sink in. How _could_ they?

The twenty or so remaining cabinet ministers filed into the room, one-by-one, over the next several minutes, all knowing what had happened. The urgency of the call, the rapidity of the car ride — they had all drawn the same correct conclusion.

Yoshi called the meeting into order. He confirmed the news. There were tears streaming down the faces of the normally quick, slick politicos. He then raised the motion to confirm Tom Collar as the acting chancellor. The vote was dirge-like, but unanimous. It was official. A new chapter was beginning.


	3. Chapter 3

**June 30, 2017, 10:01AM**

_“We interrupt this broadcast to transmit some breaking news from Toadstool Palace and the Royal Government of the Mushroom Kingdom.”_

The eyes in the newsroom of _The Toad Town Herald_ slowly turned to the televisions all over the open workspace. Normally, every one of them would curse missing a story, but this was news coming exclusively from the palace to MKN, the official public outlet. This only happened when something serious had occurred. Many assumed it would be the death of King Andrew, the infirm elderly leader who had _de facto_ abdicated the throne to Princess Peach many years earlier. Others wondered if it would be news of a skirmish over one of the disputed island territories. No one was quite prepared for what they were about to hear.

A newscaster, dressed in a black suit and tie, spoke slowly and deliberately:

_“Chancellor John Franklin Irving Toadsworth has died. He was 83 years old. The palace issued a statement several minutes ago, informing our news service that the chancellor died from natural causes late last night, and that defense minister Tom Collar has assumed the chancellorship on an interim basis. Chancellor Collar will be delivering an address to the nation within the hour.”_

Everyone knew this day would come — perhaps even while he was in office — but it was still a subconscious shock. Toadsworth had seemed to permanent, so paternal, that he some how had to exist forever. 

The news wires went crazy with reports furthering the story. Journalists quickly turned from the TVs back to their computers, working on breaking the story themselves, and preparing for the months of news to follow. It was an unspoken certainty that there would be a snap election if Toadsworth failed to finish the term. The nation’s most imposing political test in generations was about to begin. The idea of Bowser — that awful brute — leading their country was an idea both chillingly awful and disturbingly possible. He was running up his party’s polling numbers in the small towns and rural stretches of the nation, and maybe that could be enough.

Twenty minutes later, the room paused and turned back to TV again, as the new chancellor appeared onscreen, outside the Hall of the Revolution, the stoic government headquarters.

_“My fellow Mushroomians, today we remember, reflect, and mourn. John Toadsworth was a great statesman, and his legacy of contribution and civility has been forged forever into the history of our nation. Prior to his death, he entrusted the position of chancellor to myself, should anything happen to him. I accept this responsibility with a great understanding of the power of the office which has been shaped over the centuries by so many great men and women._

_“I am keenly aware that I have no mandate. I was not the party leader in the 2015 election, Chancellor Toadsworth was. Therefore, I am prepared to meet with His Majesty King Andrew and request the parliament be dissolved, and a new election be called into order, tentatively scheduled for Sunday, September 10, 2017._

_“What makes the Mushroom Kingdom powerful is that our nation, and our government, are more than the work of one individual, no matter how much that individual may have brought to us. Therefore, we go on, and the continuity of our government remains uninterrupted. This is the cornerstone of our democracy, and we should fight with every fiber of our bodies that it continue for generations and generations to come._

_“Thank you, and God save the king.”_

So that was it. There would be an election. The last remnants of normalcy, tradition, and order could be violently upended in an authoritarian revolt. Or the citizenry would remain in their old ways, and remain loyal to one of the two classical parties that had governed the nation for as long as anyone could remember. Without John Toadsworth, it was as if the nation had become younger, more unpredictable, and angrier overnight. It felt far more possible today than it did yesterday that Bowser’s cultish following and frightening policies would be the next path that the nation would take itself down.


	4. Chapter 4

**June 30, 2017, 11:52AM**

Collar stood in the empty room, specifically instructed not to seat himself until the princess and the king had entered and done the same. His first meeting with the head of state was an intimidating prospect. King Andrew was still the official leader of the country, but his advanced age (79 going on, oh, about 107) and ream of health problems (heart disease, respiratory difficulties, arthritis, early onset dementia, you name it, he had it) led to his name being invoked for legal reasons only. The (already figurehead) duties of the monarch fell on Peach, his youngest daughter. She was a human, and had been adopted in infancy by the king and his now-late wife. Peach would not inherit the throne herself upon her father’s demise — that title would go to the king’s oldest child: James, a biological descendant — but was widely recognized as a brilliant and unifying figure who handled the job well.

The space the chancellor found himself in was immaculate. High, smooth, semi-mirrored ceilings reflected the beauty below. Lush carpets, large fireplaces, and enormous windows streaming in natural light. It was as good a place for a sit-down as any.

The grand, oak-and-gold doors at the other end of the room opened, and Collar immediately snapped to attention, facing the two figures entering. Peach looked directly at him, while Andrew, relying on a cane and his daughter’s arm, stared down at the floor as they slowly made their way over to the sets of plush armchairs at the center of the room. Collar bowed deeply. They all seated themselves.

“Chancellor Collar,” Peach stated.

“Ma’am,” Collar said, looking at the princess. “Your majesty,” he said to the king, who replied with a soft nod in response.

“We were so saddened to hear of Chancellor Toadsworth’s death. He was such a wonderful individual, with unbelievable integrity. Please send our condolences to his widow and his family,” the princess said.

“Indeed,” Collar replied. “It’s hard to imagine what it will be like without him.”

“You have called for an election, I understand,” Peach continued.

“I have, ma’am. The 10th of September. I was hoping to receive the king’s confirmation. I’m not a fan of the opposition having a chance to gain on us, but I know how they would attack us if we came off as undemocratic.”

“Of course, the documentation will be sent over. You’ll understand that — well, speaking for myself at least — I’m a bit apprehensive going into this.”

Collar looked confused. “Oh?”

Peach had a somber look on her face. “Mr. Bowser quite frightens me. He would be a disaster for every last fundamental value of this country.”

Collar was taken back by her boldness. 

“Is something wrong, Mr. Collar?” Peach said after several seconds of silence.

“No, ma’am, I completely agree. I’m just not used to hearing a member of their royal family express their politics. You’re always so neutral.”

“Yes, but just because we don’t discuss our political beliefs doesn’t mean we don’t have any. My father, for example, has been a longtime supporter of Chancellor Toadsworth and his party — your party.”

King Andrew smiled softly. “Indeed. I would be a fairly regular Union Party voter, if royals voted.”

Collar smiled back, flattered by the identity of his newfound supporter.

“We disclose much to our chancellors in confidence,” Peach said. “But if Bowser were to claim power, that would no longer be so. There would be a rift, I predict. Perhaps the end of the monarchy itself.”

“I don’t believe that,” Collar said. “It feels like all talk on his part. I don’t think he would implement all of those policies.”

“His supporters will expect it, no? And he will deliver, the way he is…”

Peach trailed off, lost in thought, but then quickly returned her focus back. She stared sternly into Collar’s eyes before continuing — “Mr. Collar, for the good of this country, you must do everything in your power to make sure he never, _ever_ forms a government.”

Collar stared back. “It is my imperative.”

The conversation continued for fifteen more minutes or so, a mix of introductory comments, explanations, and questions. Soon, the talk wound down. The princess and the king rose from their seats, and Collar did the same.

“I believe this is a good place to end our meeting. There’s not much to discuss, considering the newness of your tenure. Although we shall have more next week, I suppose,” the princess said.

“Indeed, ma’am. I look forward to it.”

The princess reached for a panel of button on the ornate coffee table, and pressed one.

“I’ve just paged the staff, and they’ll show you out,” Peach said. “Although, Chancellor, before you go, one more thing.”

“Of course.”

“The content of our discussions shall remain in confidence.”

“Absolutely, ma’am. I’ll take it to the grave.” 

“Very good, Chancellor. I hope this is the first of many discussions we have.”

“Thank you, I hope the same.”

A few staffers appeared at the rear doorway, and Collar bowed to the princess and king before heading out. As he followed the employees through the bright and gilded hallways and down the ornately designed staircases of the palace, he considered the importance of this election, the balance of the future, and the critical point the country found itself in. He would not simply be a placeholder head of government. He had a vital mission on his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so this is the last chapter I wrote before I decided to post this story online. As a result, I currently have nothing else written out, but I do have a basic idea of where the story goes from here. If you've been keeping up with this, let me know in the comments and I'll continue!


End file.
